Killers
Hot Fuss
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Don't be fooled by their retro threads and the the in their name: The Killers threaten to pry dance rock from the steely grip of hipsterdom and thrust it unrepentantly into the mainstream. The Rapture are artier, and Franz Ferdinand are more, well, Scottish, but this Las Vegas band has actual pop songs -- in spades. A nightclub anthem in the making, the acid-tongued "Somebody Told Me" blasts into outer space on a wave of synthesizers and singer Brandon Flowers' cheeky chorus: "Somebody told me you had a boyfriend/Who looked like a girlfriend/That I had in February of last year." "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine" comes on like classic Duran Duran, all snaking bass lines and Flowers' elegantly wasted
Read More vocals -- part ironic detachment, part fake-British-accent, part throat-shredding wail. This album is all Killers, no filler.
These Las Vegas-based Anglophiles serve up ambitious, drama-laden indie pop with touches of synthetic glam and plenty of romantic longing. You can hear echoes of the Strokes, Pulp and even that U2 period when Adam Clayton had an afro. "All These Things That I've Done" is the band hitting its early stride.
Don't be fooled by their retro threads and the the in their name: The Killers threaten to pry dance rock from the steely grip of hipsterdom and thrust it unrepentantly into the mainstream. The Rapture are artier, and Franz Ferdinand are more, well, Scottish, but this Las Vegas band has actual pop songs -- in spades. A nightclub anthem in the making, the acid-tongued "Somebody Told Me" blasts into outer space on a wave of synthesizers and singer Brandon Flowers' cheeky chorus: "Somebody told me you had a boyfriend/Who looked like a girlfriend/That I had in February of last year." "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine" comes on like classic Duran Duran, all snaking bass lines and Flowers' elegantly wasted vocals -- part ironic detachment, part fake-British-accent, part throat-shredding wail. This album is all Killers, no filler.
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